


The Indignity (Or Why Aaravos deeply regrets choosing to be a caterpillar)

by TheLadyGrim



Series: Within the Arcanum [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyGrim/pseuds/TheLadyGrim
Summary: Was being a sparkly purple caterpillar really the best idea?
Series: Within the Arcanum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029075
Comments: 1
Kudos: 54





	1. Viren

Aaravos’s relationship with his speech construct was…complicated. The magic involved was old, older than even he could comprehend, from a time before elves and dragons and humans, when raw power shaped the landscape and all things were born connected without thought of star or wind or earth. He had shaped the construct with thought and bound it with his blood, choosing the form of a small caterpillar, one the humans had once dubbed the dragons head; both for the irony of the name and for the symbolism of his rebirth into the world.

Of course, If he’d had any idea the sheer level of INDIGNITY he’d have to endure as a caterpillar…

It started with Viren.

Their first meeting had gone well, he had not truly expected to get away with not offering his name; Viren was desperate, but not yet THAT desperate, and while Aaravos thirsted for knowledge of the human world, of what had been done with his great gift of knowledge during all these past centuries, he would have been disappointed if the heir to his staff had simply told him everything he wished to know without first trying to verify his identity. Even so he had thought Viren would recognize his name at _least_.

He had expected suspicion.

He had expected a reaction.

He had NOT expected a damn bottle.

And so when he was plucked, unexpectedly, unwillingly, from his perch on the mage’s ear he had tried, valiantly he thought; to hold on. Unfortunately, the larval form of his construct was…not particularly strong.

And then Viren stuck him in a bottle.

It wasn’t even a NICE bottle.

It wasn’t even a CLEAN bottle.

He had pulled himself, gasping from the construct’s consciousness before he could pass out from the rank fumes that permeated the bottle’s interior. It didn’t seem possible, but apparently human liquor had gotten even more potent since he’d been locked up, or maybe his tolerance for it had just decreased with time. Either way, he was thankful that the construct couldn’t die from the fumes, though they certainly wreaked havoc on his senses…

By the time Viren returned, sputtering with fury and demanding answers, Aaravos had been standing in front of his mirror; reading for well over two hours. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go, nor anything else to really do, but the knowledge that his delicate and masterfully crafted construct was being slowly but surely fumigated in an almost empty bottle of cheap liquor was vaguely irritating. Despite that, he couldn’t help but be sardonically amused as the faint strains of the other mage’s muffled bitching reached his ears. He listened for a moment before closing his book to look up, one eyebrow raised questioningly. On the other side of the glass he could see Viren gesturing with wild abandon, tossing his heavy wooden chair to the floor like a child even as he completely ignored the caterpillar still trapped in his little bottle prison.

Walking to his side of the mirror, Aaravos smiled and flicked one long ear sarcastically, pointedly looking toward his creation. _You have to use the construct, Fool._

_Did you just roll your eyes at me?!_

Inwardly Aaravos sighed before slipping back down his connection to the construct’s mind. It had been a long, long time since he’d interacted with humans, true, but he didn’t recall ever dealing with such blatant disrespect before. _Still,_ he thought, smiling a little as Vieran squirmed in disgust before settling the little caterpillar once more to his ear, _it will all be worth it in the end._


	2. Claudia

Nothing could ever be worth this.

Nothing.

Although he walked the halls now, a ghost of sorts seen only by Viren, he remained bound as ever to his little construct, orbiting its fragile form like stars dancing around the abyss of a black hole. It had been a busy few weeks, first teaching Viren to raise the shadows of the dead, their imprisonment (He inwardly shuddered at the thought of that debacle. There had been no choice at the time, it was surrender and hide or watch his link to the outside world be killed, all his hard work undone in a foolish bloody second, but the state of Viren’s EARS! Truly they didn’t bear thinking about.) But where Viren at least had learned some respect for him after his help escaping from prison and overthrowing the child king and the other petty human rulers, his children HAD NOT.

First there was Claudia.

He was…begrudgingly, starting to like Claudia, for her boundless enthusiasm if nothing else…he could admire that at least, particularly when combined with the raw power and sheer talent she possessed in spades. Frankly he wondered if Viren even realized the true extent of his daughter’s potential…If only she would learn to channel it into something other than trying to catch and urgh, pet him.

Initially he had been somewhat amused at the girl’s attempts to befriend his construct. Trying to sneak it bits of leaves and fruit when her father wasn’t paying attention, cooing over its tiny horns and sparkly purple exoskeleton. But then Viren had decided he needed some ALONE TIME and now...now Aaravos was trapped, not in any multidimensional time prison or pathetic little glass bottle, but in the grasping, unrelenting grip of a sqeeing sixteen year old girl.

But he was Aaravos! Archmage of Xadia! And. He. Would. Not. Break.

Though by end of day he might be slightly bent.

He followed Claudia closely, his construct riding her shoulder and monitoring the situation as she went about the castle, practically skipping with glee. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the girl's actions as she gathered scraps of wood and wool, small twigs, bark, rocks and glass. Carting the lot to her room and dumping it on her bed. Was this the preparation for some spell? None of the materials or reagents were particularly magical...

She talked as she worked, chattering about her family, kingdom gossip, magic...she was quite possibly the most garrulous person he'd ever met. Occasionally she would stop to inspect her project or work a small spell, hands on her hips as she regarded her progress, occasionally asking the little bug on her shoulder its opinion. He couldn't answer of course, his construct attuned only to Viren's blood, but the mage girl didn't seem to mind.

Finally her project was completed.

Aaravos was ... surprised to say the least, surprised and perhaps, PERHAPS a bit touched. Before him, masterfully crafted and containing all a little bug creature could want, was a portable terrarium. Inside, bits of twig and bark provided ample cover and little niches to hide, small, delicate plants crowding the space in a thriving leafy canopy. It was a safe place for his construct, and one where the creature's own very limited mind would be content. Claudia had even taken the trouble of enchanting the contraption for warmth and durability, ensuring that no matter what kind of terrain they might face on their conquest of Xadia, his construct would be safe and quite comfortable.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had made something specifically for him.

Oh wait, yes he could. Avizandum and that blighted, stars cursed mirror. A pretty prison for a crime of belief. A cage just like this one...and one he would shatter the elements to escape.

Lips curled in disgust, Aaravos did his best to suppress the fruitless urge to swipe the little glass box off the bed and dash it to the floor. It was a pointless desire, inane in it's impossibility So long as he lacked a true corporeal form he couldn't so much as rustle the dust moats that wafted in bright streaks from the sealed window. Warm and honey golden in the sun's light

Instead he could only watch and grit his teeth as Claudia gently coaxed the little construct off her shoulder and into the terrarium, her deep green eyes soft as she watched the caterpillar wiggle it purple antenna before slowly inching it's way deeper into the inviting foliage. It was just another prison, he told himself, stalking a short distance behind the mage girl as she trotted back to Viren's study, mindful of how careful she was not to jostle the glass box or it's precious contents. Just another prison he would soon break free of, it didn't matter.

It didn't matter at all.  
  



End file.
